


Tell Me

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 4x03, F/M, Missing Scene, Restoration, episode reaction fic, in which Felicity hates surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5053480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’d been together for seven months and yet Oliver still refused to accept that she hated surprises. But maybe he could be...persuaded. </p>
<p>Episode reaction/missing scene fic for 4x03 "Restoration".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me

“Can’t I get, like, one teeny-tiny clue?” Felicity begged, for what was the sixth time since they’d said their goodbyes to Diggle at the bar and headed home, as she shakily unlocked the door ( _thank you, three margaritas_ ) and pulled Oliver inside after her. “Don’t I get to know  _one_  teeny tiny little thing about the new lair you’ve been planning in that pretty head of yours?”

Oliver looked at her with a bemused expression, one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure you only had three margaritas?”

“I’m not  _drunk_ ,” Felicity pouted, pulling her hand out from where their fingers had been interlocked moments before. “I want to know what you’re planning for the new lair!”

“And I told you it was a surprise,” Oliver replied. “Seven times, in fact, because that’s how many times you’ve asked me to tell you what I have in mind since we left the bar.”

_Oh, so it_ was  _seven. Not six. Huh. Maybe she_ was _a little bit tipsy._

“And I told  _you_ , Mr. Secretive,” Felicity jabbed one finger in his direction to emphasize the point, “more than once, on our road trip, that I don’t like surprises. You keep forgetting that.”

“There’s difference between forgetting something and simply choosing to ignore it,” Oliver grinned, moving past Felicity to shrug off his jacket and throw it over a nearby chair. “And I’m not telling you my plans for the lair!” he called back to her as he started to climb the stairs to the top level of the apartment.

But Felicity wasn’t going down without a fight, and so she followed him; she  _would_  get something out of him, she was sure of it. She would find out what he was planning, and then insist on being a part of whatever it was he was doing, because she was his girlfriend now and they were a team, and so it was her right to know. 

Plus, she had a feeling that it was  _her_  salary that would be paying for all of this....whatever it was, which made it a financial obligation for him to tell her what he was doing with her money.

“Come on, Oliver, tell me,” Felicity pleaded, following him into their bedroom and watching from the doorway as he started to undress. “I can keep a secret. I won’t tell Dig. I’ll be good.”

“I’m not telling you, Felicity, and that’s final,” Oliver said, pulling his sweater over his head so that he was just wearing his t-shirt and underwear. Felicity couldn’t help but admire the view; the strong muscles in his shoulders and back, his very shapely ass. The ass that was all hers. 

_Okay, she was definitely tipsy._

She tried one last time, pushing off of the doorway and stepping further into the room. “What about girlfriend privileges?” 

“You don’t have any,” Oliver quipped, still smiling.  “At least, not about this.”

Oh.  _Oh._

“Fine,” Felicity huffed. “I’ll get it out of you eventually. You won’t be able to resist me.”

She pulled her hair from her ponytail and shook it loose, combing through it with her fingers to tease out the kinks and waves from being tied back all day. When she was done, she made her way across the space between them, stumbling a little in her heels on the plush carpet. Slowly, teasingly, she pushed up the fabric of Oliver’s t-shirt so that the scarred skin of his back was exposed, warm under her hands. 

“Will you tell me now?” she whispered as she pressed her mouth to his skin, unable to keep from smiling when she felt him shiver underneath her lips.

“No,” came Oliver’s half-reply, half-groan from somewhere above her, and her smile widened. 

“How about now?” She moved lower, following the shape of his spine, leaving smears of rose-coloured lipstick and the scent of alcohol on his skin. 

“Definitely not,” he said, but she heard his breath catch, and she knew she was getting somewhere. 

Finally, she reached the small of his back, where there was a large burn mark stretched across the base of his spine. She knew the skin there was sensitive; she knew it would drive him crazy if she put her mouth there. 

What could she say?

She liked to play dirty.

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver whined -  _whined_  - rocking back on his heels, every line and angle of his body screaming arousal.  _“Do something.”_

“Tell me what you’re planning for the lair and I will,” she said, feeling secretly triumphant that she’d got this far. 

“Alright,” he breathed, “alright, I’ll tell you  _one_  thing.  _One_. But you have to get me off first.” 

“So bossy,” Felicity muttered. “You wouldn’t think I was the CEO in this relationship, but I’ll agree to your deal.” She straightened up, kicking off her shoes as she went. 

 “Now take off your pants before I change my mind.”


End file.
